Surviving Malfoy, Part II - Anger and Depression
by Mrs. Lovetts
Summary: I didn't know if I should be relieved or terrified to be back at Salem. All I knew was that I was angry - he'd left me with a heart-ache greater than I'd ever known and a werewolf bite so severe my left eye was incurably blind. But at least I was safe here, no matter how strong Voldemort would get, he couldn't get to me.
1. Chapter 1

Surviving Malfoy _ Part II : Anger and Depression

**This IS a sequel/Part 2 - should go without saying, but in case you haven't done so yet, I'd recommend you go read through ****Surviving Malfoy _ Part I : Shock and ****Denial which can be found on my profile - if ya don't, good luck understanding this Part.**

watch?v=EJkaRGK70l4

Rollers of Bedlam 'June' - I heard her Cry, can you hear her cry?

Chapter 1:

Although my last few days in Britain had been warm, they were nothing compared to the heat that overtook New Orleans during the summer months. I used to hate it. It came with a pressing humidity that made your skin sticky and your lungs feel heavy. If it could be avoided, no one went outside until early evening, when the heat would die down and the streets came back alive.

I used to hide from it in the basement of Salem's New Orleans House. It was both the potions classroom and the coolest part in the Mansion, making it by far my favourite place to be. Now that I'd experienced the always cool corridors of Hogwarts castle, however, I'd started seeking out the sun every free minute I had, dragging Debbie along with me on the rare occasions my mother would give me permission to leave the house without her supervision.

I had few freedoms these days. It had only been a few weeks since Madam Fox, my mother and Debbie had stormed into Hogwarts to rush me back to Salem after my brief encounter with a bunch of Death Eaters. The school year was only due to end today and I'd been busy working out my curriculum along with my Salem teachers after a year at Hogwarts, but the little free time I did have, my mother tended to keep me occupied inside, under the pretence of needing help looking after the other girls. Help she'd never needed before, but I knew her goal was to keep an eye on me and, for the most part, I was happy to indulge her.

My year at Hogwarts hadn't exactly ended in the best way possible. I'd managed to keep my head down for most of the year, although I'd somehow managed to raise the attention of one particular Death Eater's son which had not only left me with a bit of a bruised heart, but also with a severe werewolf bite across half my face and - worse even - the risk of Lord Voldemort finding out about my consanguineal kinship with his arch nemesis, Harry Potter. I couldn't really argue with my mother that I was better off inside.

She wasn't the only nervous one either. The minute I'd filled in Madam Fox on the going ons of my year at Hogwarts she'd rounded up every teacher in Salem along with several alumni, each putting a different protective charm on the house, those daring enough had gone so far as to use blood magic - all to make sure no one could get to me.

It was surreal to me how so many people would put so much at stake for my protection. Being a student at the Salem Institute, I'd heard many tales about the lengths Salem Witches would go to in order to protect and defend each-other. But nothing grave enough had ever happened to make me witness it until now. One call from Madam Fox and thirteen witches dropped everything and came to New Orleans to ensure my and my mother's safety. They'd put up an intruder charm around the entire block, a magical barrier on the gates, more concealment charms than there already were and imperturbable charms on each window and door. A Fidelius Charm hadn't been an option as too many people needed to be able to come and go freely, but a blood sacrifice had been made preventing anyone to enter if they weren't accompanied by a consenting Salem Witch.

All this for me. And the more time passed, the more I started doubting their necessity. I got very few messages from my friends in Britain, in fact I only ever received them from Hermione Granger, coincidentally one of my brother's best friends. She'd charmed two gold coins to mirror each other, allowing us to transfigure their numbers into small messages for one another. She'd been overly casual over the last few weeks, occasionally letting me know things were fine, but not much more. I hadn't expected much more anyway, to be fair. She was in as dangerous a position as my brother. From what we heard in the US, their ministry seemed to be putting up a strong facade yet failing at producing any real results. Albus Dumbledore had been killed within his own school. He'd been Lord Voldemort's biggest opponent and now he was gone, the British Wizarding World's political climate seemed to grow progressively more tense and frantic. Getting any messages about the ministry across the pond could be dangerous business, any opposition could be misinterpreted and for now I was simply glad Hermione was still able to let me know she was okay.

I had another one of these little coins. This one linked to Draco Malfoy, the Death Eater's son who'd been intent on killing Albus Dumbledore all year. That coin had stayed unchanged since he'd accidentally sent me a message meant for his informant however, and I hadn't tried to get in touch with him either. That business was infinitely more dangerous than discussing the weaknesses of the British Ministry.

I also hadn't heard a word from my brother, but I wasn't too concerned about him as of now. I knew he was with our aunt and uncle, safe at least until our seventeenth birthday just over a month away. I also guessed he was under Ministry supervision, his owl undoubtedly would be intercepted and would have to fly a distance much too dangerous for such a small bird. He'd let me know he'd be rejoining Hermione and their friend Ron before the end of the summer and I'd be able to check in on him through her.

No news was good news, that was the general rule I tried to live by.

"Every damn year."

Debbie was sitting on my left, on the floor of the balcony just outside the room we shared at Salem. She was leaning her back against the wall, legs outstretched in front of her, crossed at the ankles and enjoying the pumpkin ice cream Martha had made that morning. My legs were crossed, but otherwise I was mirroring her stance entirely. From up here, we had a straight view of the road passing the Mansion and on it, the hordes of muggles, dressed all in white on their way to Bayou St. John. Today was St. John's Eve. For the muggles, this meant religious rituals, for us the end of the school year.

"They're not doing any harm." I shrugged.

"They're playing with fire."

"They're muggles Debs, what do you think's going to happen? They can brew as many potions or use as many gris-gris' as they want, the only effect it'll have is placebo."

I didn't need to turn my head in her direction to know her eyebrows were beyond her hairline. "How do you know they're all muggles? It's dangerous. Any wizard could sneak into their midst and kill half of them during one head washing."

"Tituba, you sound like my brother." I sighed.

"Yeah well, maybe he's got a point." She murmured and I didn't respond. "Heard anything from him lately?"

I shook my head. "He's still with his aunt and uncle. Hermione'll let me know once they're all back together."

"How's she doing?"

Debbie and Hermione had met during my last stay in the Hospital Wing at Hogwarts. They'd taken it in turns carrying me to the bathroom until I had enough strength to do so on my own. Hermione still didn't know Debbie had screwed me over quite badly over Christmas and she'd been rather fond of her. Debbie on the other hand, had been awfully quiet around Hermione at first - she later admitted she feared I'd replaced her, but also knew full well she had no right to complain if I had. I'd insisted nobody could replace her.

"I'm not sure." I shrugged. "We can't send super long messages with that coin, but she sounds tense. She's preparing to go into hiding is my guess."

"They're definitely not going back to Hogwarts then?"

I shook my head again. "Too risky."

"What's their plan?"

"I have no idea."

Debbie poked at her ice cream. She knew why it was too risky and she knew as much about their plan as I did. We'd been discussing nothing else since coming back from the UK.

"Anything from..?" She trailed off.

"No." I said flatly.

It was funny how being blind, even just on one eye, could make you so much more perceptive of people. I sensed Debbie pausing with her spoon halfway between the bowl and her lips, her head cocked in my direction and her eyebrows furrowed. I turned my head to look at her and got the confirmation that that was exactly what she was doing. Or maybe I just knew her too well.

"What?" I asked.

She shrugged. "How are you feeling?"

"How am I supposed to be feeling?"

"I don't know." She said curtly. "You never talk about him."

I sighed and put my own bowl of ice cream down on the balcony floor. "That's because I don't really want to talk about him." I said.

"I see you looking at that coin every day." Debbie huffed. "Don't tell me you don't care."

"I never said that." I paused. "I'm angry. That's what I am, angry."

"Good." Debbie said. "Now tell me why."

I turned to look at her again. "What do you mean why? He screwed me over. Me and the entire British wizarding world. He got Voldemort's biggest opponent killed and gave him free rein to take power. Of course I'm angry."

"I know that." Debbie said. "But I also know that's not the only reason you're angry. You're angry because he screwed _you _over, because he made promises he didn't keep. And let me guess, you're not angry because he broke the promise but because he made it in the first place knowing full well he couldn't keep it."

I frowned. "If you already know why I'm angry, why are you even asking?"

"Because I want to make sure you're not angry at yourself."

My jaw clenched of its own accord. "I'm not." I said reluctantly and Debbie's eyebrows shot back up to her hairline. Maybe she knew me too. "Just a little bit." I admitted. "I was stupid enough to believe him."

"Or maybe you just wanted to believe in him." Debbie said softly.

"Don't give me this bullshit." I said forcefully.

Debbie groaned. "I wouldn't be sitting here if you didn't believe in the good in people." She said. "I like that you do that and I'm begging you, don't stop."

"Look where that got me." I gestured at the left side of my face that was nothing but a map of scars.

"You said yourself he didn't have a choice."

"And that's exactly why I shouldn't have trusted him." My voice was bitter.

Debbie sighed. "Don't blame yourself." She said so quietly I could barely hear her.

The problem was, I did blame myself. I kept repeating to myself that I'd done all I could, I'd been following Dumbledore's orders when I met up with him, when I offered him help. I was being a friend to him because I'd been told to. I didn't report him to any higher authorities because I'd been told to, because I'd been told it was under control.

And yet I blamed myself for trusting him when he said he wasn't going to pursue his mission. For being stupid enough not to worry when he didn't ask what kind of help I had to offer. I'd let him seduce me. Only to a point sure, but I'd let him seduce me nonetheless.

"Blaise is right." Debbie was looking forward again, gazing at the neatly cut front lawn and beyond the wrought iron gate where the street was slowly quieting down. Night started falling. "The whole situation wasn't his fault. The both of you just got tangled up in something bigger than yourselves and he can't be blamed for reacting the way he did. What he can be blamed for is making promises to you he knew he wasn't going to keep. And you have every right to be angry, but you have no right to blame yourself."

Debatable. I sighed. "He used me." I said. "And I'm pretty are he knew he was using me. I was just some stupid bint to him. And I do have every right to be angry at myself for being just as stupid as he took me to be."

Debbie inhaled sharply about to retort but before she could do so, Lizzie stuck her head through the door to our bedroom.

"There you are." She said looking at me, her red ponytail swinging behind her. "Madam Vincent's looking for you."

"What does she want?" I asked. It was the last day of term, there was hardly anything she could want from me.

Lizzie shrugged. "Don't know. She just said she needed you."

I sighed and got up, picking up my bowl of ice cream. Lizzie had already vanished back into Debbie's and my bedroom. "Where is she?" I asked, stepping through the french doors.

"In the conservatory." I caught Lizzie's small frame just as it vanished into the first floor hallway. I couldn't help but marvel at the growth spurt she'd had since I'd last seen her six months ago, she was going to turn eight just five days before I was due to turn seventeen.

I followed her out into the bright hallway. Just like the rest of New Orleans House it was predominantly white, hornbeam floors, white walls, silver doorknobs. Only the doorframes were mahogany, mirroring the steps of the grand twin staircase that lead down to the entrance hall. I skipped down it as fast as I could, I'd learnt its intricacies years ago and I could run down it on autopilot by now.

I followed Lizzie into the kitchen. It stood opposite the dining room on the left coming down the stairs and Martha, one of the matrons, was standing by the sink, peeling carrots for the end of term dinner.

"Do you need help with that?" I asked.

"Later maybe." She turned to me with a smile. She was hardly five years older than Debbie and I and she'd always been more of an older sister to us than a matron we were supposed to listen to. "Vincent needs you. She's in the back." I groaned. If even Martha knew about it, it might just be worrying. I crossed the kitchen into the back hall, past the pantry and the back drawing room, down a few steps and into the conservatory.

We only called it the conservatory because it was linked to the house, but really it was more of a greenhouse. The inside had been magically enhanced to fit all of Madam Vincent and Madam Holbein's plants. Vincent was our potions instructor, Holbein was responsible for magical plants and although Vincent taught her classes in the basement, she spent most of her time in the conservatory with Madam Holbein conducting research on tituba knew what.

I spotted Madam Vincents lean frame at the back of the greenhouse, facing one of the work benches. She was wearing the typical attire for graduate Salem Witches, black bottoms, white top, black tie and white brimmed hat, black shoes. It wasn't mandatory anymore, but most graduates chose to wear the apparel at the very lest on formal occasions as a sign of loyalty and respect. It was required of Salem teachers however, so this wasn't an unusual sight outside a formal occasion either.

"Madam Vincent?" I asked when I approached and she still hadn't turned around to me. She'd been fiddling around with vials.

"Oh there you are." She dropped what she was holding and whipped her head around to me. She broke out into a reassuring smile, pale eyes twinkling, and yet I sensed she was tense about something. I'd known her long enough, she'd been the one nurturing my talent for potions ever since I'd turned eleven, spending many extra hours on my education.

"Lizzie said you needed me?" I said.

"In a way." She said, turning back around to the workbench and picking up a cup that had been sitting on her right. "I need you to drink this."

She held up the goblet and I felt my stomach drop. It wasn't exactly a small cup and there was a faint blue smoke slowly rising from it. I'd never seen it before but I knew enough about it to know what was coming. This was wolfsbane potion.

"Look." She said, sensing my discomfort. "I still don't think you'll need it but I'd rather be safe than sorry. I did my research on werewolf bites by untransformed werewolves but I couldn't find any substantial reports. I don't think you'll need it, but on the off-chance something happens at full moon, I'm going to need you to drink a cup full of this ever evening for the next week."

I took a deep breath. I'd been shutting my mind down every time it reminded me of the werewolf bite on my face, but I'd also been expecting something like this. And Madam Vincent was right, better safe than sorry. I nodded.

"Just this once, okay?" She said lifting her hand in reassurance to beckon me over.

"Okay." I said, taking the cup from her. The fumes smelt pleasant enough, but the potion itself tasted absolutely disgusting and I coughed in revulsion after just one gulp.

"The whole cup." Madam Vincent said when I struggled swallowing a second mouth full and a sudden wave of pity overtook me. Draco'd been swallowing this for a full seven days every month for our entire sixth year at Hogwarts and it was the most disgusting thing I'd ever tasted in my life.

"I really do hope you won't need it." She said when I'd finally managed to force down the entire potion. My throat still stung with the taste of it.

"I know." I said before she could continue. "Better than having a loose werewolf."

She gave me a sad smile before she nodded. "Just in case." She said again and I gave her back her cup.

My tongue was still burning when I walked back up to the kitchen minutes later. Only six more times and I'd know if I ever needed to take this again, but to be perfectly honest I didn't know if I could live with the prospect of ingesting that potion seven times every month. It felt like it was clawing at my insides.

"Still willing to help?" Martha asked when I entered the kitchen and I grimaced at her. "She forced the wolfsbane potion on you, didn't she?"

"What's a wolfsbane potion?" Lizzie peeped from her seat at the big butchers table in the middle of the room. She was shelling peas.

"You don't need to know." I said glumly.

Martha gave me a pitying look. "It's ridiculous. It wasn't the full-moon when you got bitten. You don't need it."

"She's right though." I said. "You never know."

Even though Martha'd turned back around towards the sink, I was pretty sure her lips had tightened. "I guess so." She said. "What are you going to do on the full-moon?"

I shrugged. I'd be back at my mother's house for the summer in a week's time. She lived just outside the borders of New Orleans in Metairie, and she lived surrounded by muggles. Not exactly a safe place for a werewolf to transform or to be on the loose. My stomach tightened up in a knot again.

I shrugged. "I'm not sure."

"Go to the swamps." Martha said. "I can let my dad know and he can keep an eye on you if anything does happen. It'll be safer than being in the middle of a suburb."

Cassius Warbeck, Martha's father, was a Cajun wizard living in the swamps outside New Orleans, west of Lake Lery. I'd known him since I was ten, he'd been bringing Martha around to get her comfortable around us years before she started work as a Matron at Salem. She was a Squib and he wanted to make sure she had a promising future and he'd grown rather fond of Debbie and I in the process. We spent our afternoons in his home on the bank of Le Blanc Bayou whenever Madam Holbein took us out to look for swamp plants.

The idea was comforting.

"I don't know if mum would let me." I said.

Martha sighed. "She doesn't need to know, does she? Lock your room, apparate out of it and she won't know a thing."

I frown at her. "She'll kill me if she finds out."

"If she does, let me know and I'll have a word with her. I'd rather have you be somewhere far from civilisation with a capable wizard around who can handle a werewolf if he needs to, than know you're stuck in a room in the middle of a muggle suburb with nothing but a squib to look after you."

I gulped. "The wolfsbane potion-" I started but Martha cut me off.

"Helps, I know." She said. "But still. On the off-chance something goes wrong, do me a favour spend that night in the swamps."


	2. Chapter 2

Surviving Malfoy _ Part II : Anger and Depression

watch?v=wnUJv5Ej39I

Billie Eilish 'ilomilo' - I just wanted to protect you.

Chapter 2:

Saint-Jean-Baptiste Day, under normal circumstances, was the day all the Salem girls would be picked up by their parents and taken home for the summer holiday. As this would cause too much ruckus for Madam Fox not to fear my safety however, she'd arranged for us all to be escorted home one by one by a teacher and anyone old enough to apparate on their own were allowed to leave whenever they were ready. Except me.

My mother had me supervising the day, making sure all the younger girls had all their belongings, tearful goodbyes were held swiftly and without much drama and no favourite stuffed animals were abandoned for the summer. She'd been nervous all morning, actively blaming it on the stress of the day, but really I knew she was fearing going home with me.

We were due to leave last as my mother was still working until the end of the day. Madam Fox had paid her house a visit the day before, making sure the protective charms that had been put up around it would hold through the summer. It was under a Fidelius Charm with my mother as the secret keeper, so I wouldn't be able to access it without her by my side just yet anyways. So I spent my day throwing leftover laundry onto various beds, waking children and brushing hair.

The chaos of it kept my mind off the coming two months. I loved my mother, I loved her house, but it never felt nearly as much like home as Salem did and the prospect of being scooped up inside it for an entire two months made me groan internally just thinking about it. She'd laid the rules down early on; I wasn't to leave the house on my own, I wasn't to meet anyone she didn't know and who hadn't been properly vetted, I had to be home before sundown and I was to call her if the slightest problem presented itself. There was only one other place in town that had been given the all clear for me to go to if I needed distracting - the house Debbie was due to move into today.

Originally, she'd been told she would be spending the up-coming year at Salem working under Madam Zollner, the Defence Instructor, to make up for her offences. She would still be doing so, however she'd now been housed in Touro, not far from Salem and with two roommates: a Swedish magical historian on a twelve month research sabbatical and a newly graduated MACUSA agent working in the Louisiana Investigation Department. Madam Fox hadn't given Debbie much of a reason for this, but she didn't really need to. I had a hard time keeping my eyes from rolling back into my head when she'd told me the news.

I was to spend the summer under constant supervision.

I was torn between gratitude and annoyance. I was grateful they would put considerable amounts of energy into my protection, yet more than just a little annoyed that they would restrict my freedom to this point. Still not much had happened, although the news had broken the night before about a mass-breakout from Azkaban prison with various known Death Eaters now on the loose in Britain. But nothing much was happening on our side of the world. Voldemort was still in hiding, he hadn't started a single attack so far. The situation was tense, but not yet worrisome for me so far as British Magical Law Enforcement were still on our side. And yet I would be forced to spend the summer in one place, barely leaving my mother's side.

She did her best not to show it to me, but I knew it put her under immense pressure. I was old enough to look after myself, a month away from being of age and she had always regarded me as independent. But she felt responsible for what happened to me at Hogwarts and I knew she would never forgive herself if anything more would happen to me. Her lack of magical abilities weighed on her more than ever before. I knew she felt defenceless, she didn't have to tell me.

"Have you seen Lizzie's toothbrush?" My mother huffed, coming to a halt next to me.

"It's in the front pocket of her suitcase with the rest of her toiletries, mom." I was in the middle of twisting little six year old Ella's hair into a bun. She squirmed. "I packed it with her this morning."

"You're hurting me." Ella whined as my mother rolled her eyes and turned back around. "Front pocket, Liz!" She yelled up the stairs.

"Don't even try, you're not getting out of this one." I said just as Lizzie shouted back "It's not, I checked already!" I sighed. "Yes it is, we packed it together!" I silently vowed never to have children, tying the knot on Ella's hairband. "All done." I nudged her off the chair and she ran off with barely more than a wave as a thanks.

I threw her hairbrush into the suitcase that laid open on her bed and left the room. I'd barely had the time to pack my own things together, I'd been too busy packing everybody else's. I wasn't in a hurry though, anything to delay our departure. I spent the rest of my morning helping Martha prepare the last lunch of the year, before falling onto one of the white chesterfields in the front parlour with Debbie, trying to make plans for the summer we both knew my mother would squash instantly.

Lunch was unusually quiet and colourful. It was the polar opposite to the black and white uniformed sea of giggling girls we had all year, yet my mother prided herself in it. It meant they were reluctant to leave and she'd done her job. We bid the youngest ones goodbye first as they slowly trickled out one by one until only Debbie and I were left. She'd never even been to the house she was due to move into and us such Madam Fox had asked one of her new roommates to come pick her up.

We were sitting at the bottom of the right twin stair in the entrance hall, in our muggle clothes and sulkier than we'd been all day when the doorbell rang. Debbie groaned, she would've preferred the extra year living here.

"Shush." My mother rushed out of the kitchen and down the front hallway to the door. Debbie got up, rolling her eyes at me behind her back as I stifled a laugh.

"I've heard much about this place." A deep voice followed my mother's footsteps and I exchanged a look with Debbie at the accent.

"Shouldn't Mr. Wallace be picking up Deborah?" My mother asked that exact question. The MACUSA agent was supposed to be picking Debbie up, not the Swedish one.

"Austin was called away on a mission this afternoon." Came the answer as they came into view and neither of us cared anymore. "So I took it upon myself to accompany Miss Zabini home."

"Very well, that should be no problem." My mother said. "We've got all her stuff ready here. This is Debbie." She said, pointing at her. "And this my daughter, Jolene."

I raised my hand in salutation, but I didn't trust my voice to correct my name just yet.

"Delighted, my name's Casper. I'll take care of the luggage." He said with a handsome little smile and the second he turned to pick up the suitcases my mother had pointed at, Debbie whipped her head around to me and mouthed 'Oh. My God.'

I tried holding my face as neutral as possible. The man who'd just walked in must have been in his early twenties and as handsome as his smile. He had slick, jet black hair and the highest cheekbones I'd ever seen on a human being, slightly puckered lips and protruding eyes of the deepest blue. I pressed my lips together tightly, watching him straighten back up, suitcases now firmly in hand. His body had proportioned itself quite nicely over the full 6'5 he was easily reaching. I probably looked like a toddler next to him.

A scar-faced toddler.

"Call me!" Debbie said, raising a hand in goodbye as she followed him out of the house. She had a stupid grin plastered on her face that caused just the slightest bit of jealousy to mix in with my already miffed disposition.

"Ready?" My mother asked and I followed her out of the door, where she took hold of my hand and I apparated us away into the front room of her little blue house in Metairie.

My summer didn't start out too bright. I felt irritated and I wasn't sure if this was down to being stuck in a house out of which my mother wasn't ready to let me out yet, or the approaching full-moon. I religiously drank the Wolfsbane potion every evening as prescribed by Madam Vincent and hated every minute of it. If this was supposed to ease the pain of the full-moon, it certainly wasn't helping in the days leading up to it. I cursed my existence every time the stinky liquid burnt its way down my throat.

The fact that neither of us had much to do didn't exactly help the situation either. My mother, so used to caring for twenty plus girls from the end of August through to late June for the past fifteen years, had always had a particularly tough time being in a quiet house for the remaining two months of the year. The previous summer, she'd gone as far as to renovate her entire kitchen out of boredom. Although I had my suspicions she might also have been trying to avoid facing the fact that I would be leaving for, what we thought at the time, would be for good.

I, on the other hand, used to welcome having some alone time with my mother. I normally had to share her attention with an entire school and these two summer months used to be the only ones where she would be looking after just me. We'd spend our days together, lazing around, cooking, playing board games or she'd take me out shopping, swimming or to a museum. We'd take Debbie along from time to time, even have her over for sleepovers.

This year was different. We both wanted to leave the house, yet no matter how insistent I was that I would have it under control if anything was to happen, my mother wouldn't allow me to take her anywhere. I wasn't of age yet, the rules weren't as strict as in Britain, I was allowed to do minimal amounts of magic outside school, but needing to defend us both would cross that line. Plus causing a scene in the possible presence of a muggle wasn't exactly legal here either.

Tensions started running high quickly. I was aware that I'd developed a short temper, yet I couldn't help but let it run loose. I grew increasingly more nervous the closer the next full-moon drew. I kept on being told most likely nothing would happen - but what if it did? What would it feel like? How dangerous would I become, to what extent would I be able to control it or myself?

I'd tried introducing the idea of going out to the swamps during the full-moon on our first evening at my mother's house, but she'd declined categorically. Too risky, too dangerous, too unsafe. No matter how many trained wizards were around. I would be on the wolfsbane potion and I'd be safest shut away in my room.

I try every day over the course of that week to convince her to just let me go and each time our rows would grow more and more intense. Anger I didn't want to direct at her poured out of me until I eventually reached breaking point on the day of the full-moon. In a last-ditch attempt at getting out of the house I said the one thing I knew would get to her, yet never truly believed in.

"Why the _fuck _did you send me there, mom? We wouldn't even be in this situation if you would've just let me stay here."

Her nostrils flared just the way mine did when I was angry. She dropped the pan she was holding back into the kitchen sink and propped both her hands up on the kitchen counter, gripping its edges. She looked seconds away from slapping me, yet she reacted the exact way she always did when one of her girls threw a tantrum.

"Language, young lady." She pointed a finger at me patronisingly and I huffed at her half turning away. "I've had enough of this. You know exactly why I won't let you go into a deserted swamp in the middle of the night unsupervised-"

"Unsuper-?!"

"_Yes. _Unsupervised. You can't think I'll-"

"Mom! Cassius would be there. He's perfectly capable-"

"We don't know that." She said with a finality I was more than ready to challenge.

"What, because he's not a Hawthorne Wizard?!"

"We haven't checked him in any way."

"We've known him for years! He's Martha's dad for Tituba's sake."

She huffed and turned away to pick the pan back out of the sink and start scrubbing it again. I waited for a response, but I wasn't going to get one.

"Are you planning on doing background checks on every single person I'm going to be around in my life?" My voice was still angry but I did my best to keep it at a decent level.

My mother inhaled deeply before she answered. "For the foreseeable future, we might need to."

I rubbed my forehead with the palm of my hand. She wasn't going to back down.

"I'd feel safer if I weren't in this house." I said calmly. The pan clanked back into the sink and she threw the sponge right after it. "Mom-"

"It's fine." She said curtly, her voice high-pitched. She turned around and walked right out of the kitchen.

"Mom!" I said hot on her heels. "That's not how I meant that."

"No, you did." She turned back around. I'd hit a nerve. "And you're right, I can't protect you. Not in this situation. But I'm doing the best I can-"

"I know that." I said as softly as I could. "But I don't think I'm in any imminent danger right now and I'd feel much safer in case I do…" I paused. "Transform tonight. I'd rather be somewhere far away from people. Somewhere where you don't have to see or hear it."

My mother's lips were pursed, I could see the tiny tears in the corners of her eyes, but now was not the time to make things sound prettier than they were. She took another deep breath.

"Nothing's going to happen." She said softly.

"Why have you been making me drink that potion all week if you're so convinced?" She bit her lip at that and, clapping her hands together, let herself sink into her old leather wing chair. "Just to make sure. Well, maybe I want to make sure nothing happens to you tonight. Any werewolf, even under wolfsbane, can be unpredictable, especially if it's their first turn."

She hid her face in her hands and it took me a second to realise she'd started crying. "Mom…" I made my way over to her, crouching in front of the armchair. I didn't have time to do much more as she pulled me towards her.

"You're right." She said, enveloping me in an awkward embrace with me still half sitting on the floor. "I can't protect you." I sighed, about to respond but she interrupted me before I could do so, shaking her head. "I can't. I never could, I don't understand why they left you with me in the first place."

I frowned, the hand I had on her shoulder pausing and she pulled back to look me in the eye. She sensed the question. "That's a story for another time." She said, patting my cheek.

I felt my jaw tighten, a little bit of my earlier annoyance returning. "Mom-" I started, but I was interrupted yet again.

"Another time." She said firmly. "You go to Warbeck tonight. Stay alert and come back here the minute it's over. I'll go fetch a few things to show you tomorrow, okay?"

"Thank you." I said truthfully.

That little promise meant I had something to look forward to after the full-moon. I'd been nothing but nervous and stressed beforehand, with nothing much else on my mind but the amount pain I might be in in a few short hours. I still had that fear, but the wonder about what my mother could have to show me took over for the rest of the day. I spent it in my room, trying to distract myself with my new Hawthorn wand. It had a unicorn hair core and still felt a little strange.

Sunset was only a few hours away, and I grew increasingly more restless the closer it got. Hermione sent me a message around seven, just to ask if I was alright. I'd marked her coin with a little dent in the side to make sure I didn't make the same mistake Draco had a month ago. I told her I was, even though I wasn't.

The moon was due to come out at 8.06pm, so at 7.45 I grabbed my wand and left the house. Out of habit, I stuffed both coins into the back pocket of my shorts. I apparated close to the water, not far from Lake Lery and sat down below a cypress tree, leaning my back into the damp moss covering it. The heat was still pressing down on me and the amount of water around did not help the humidity. But it was the first time in a year that I'd felt this, so I drank it all in while I still could.

It didn't take Cassius very long to find me. Barely a few minutes after I'd made myself comfortable, I suddenly found him leaning against another tree ten yards away, his beefy, red pit bull by his side. We exchange little more than a look for a greeting.

His presence somehow made what may be about to happen all the more real. He was here to look out for me, simultaneously protect me and protect others from me should I really turn. I suppressed a shudder, a small lump of panic slowly forming in the pits of my stomach. The fact that I'd forgotten to bring along a watch wasn't exactly helpful. The sun seemed to set slower and slower, the moon took its sweet time showing itself and with every minute that crept by, my stomach tied itself deeper and deeper into that all-familiar knot of anxiety.

Until finally, over the edge of a few far away tree, I saw the edge of the full-moon peak out. I instinctively held my breath, hyper-aware of how sticky and damp my skin had become, whether it be from sweat or humidity I didn't know. It crept higher and a ripple seemed to take over my arms, goosebumps spreading out down my back and I stood as still as I could, letting the moon-light bathe me.

Nothing happened. I sat frozen for a moment longer before I finally released my shaky breath and with it the tension I hadn't quite realised had taken up residence in my shoulders since I'd met Fenrir Greyback just over three weeks ago. I buried my face in my hands, drawing in a few more shaky breaths. A large, warm and wet tongue prompted me to look back up. Brandy had started to lick my face in compassion and I only now realised I'd let out a few tears of relief.

"Come on, Kiddo." Cassius was standing right next to me, extending a hand to help me lift myself to my feet. "I'll give you something to take the edge off."

The Warbeck's house glowed faintly green in the emerging moon-light. It stood on stilts and I knew a set of stairs at the back would lead down to the river. Today however, I followed Cassius' shortly cropped, white-blonde head through the front door and into its kitchen, where he lit two old oil lamps before pouring a large amount of Blishen's Firewhisky into a glass and putting it down on the table for me to drink.

"Brandy, couch." He said and the dog obliged readily, leaving us alone in the kitchen. I sat down on one of his old, wobbly kitchen chairs and watched his tall frame move around the kitchen. "Drink it." He said, noticing I hadn't touched the glass. "Trust me, it'll help."

I took a small gulp, coughing a little at the way it burnt down my throat. "Thank you."

Cassius grunted. "I'm just glad I don't have to spend the night looking after a loose werewolf." His voice was kind and sure enough, when he turned around he had a mischievous grin in store as he sat down opposite me.

I smiled back. "I'm just glad I don't have to be a loose werewolf."

He huffed. "Just let me know when you want something a bit more bloody on the table. I know you're mother's not too fond of making that stuff."

I grinned back, but it vanished quickly off my face and I took another sip. "She almost didn't let me come here tonight."

"Martha mentioned you might not show up." He carried on when I didn't respond. "Don't be too hard on her, she's just worried about you."

"I know. Can't really blame her." The Firewhisky seared its way down my throat, slowly bringing heat back into my fingertips.

"I would have flipped out way worse than that if it had been any of my kids."

"They all did, to be honest. Flip out, I mean." I grimaced. "Mom's barely letting me out of her sight, Salem's under complete lock-down and I can't leave the house without constant supervision. I'll be of age in a month and it feels like I'm back in kindergarten."

"And they're right." I looked up at hi, a little taken aback. "Those guys you had a run in with a month ago? Don't underestimate them." He carried on as my eyebrows deepened into a frown. "I guarantee you that Malfoy boy will not keep his mouth shut and the second they find out, they'll come hunting you down. Your Harry Potter's sister, if they can't get him, you'll be like the holy grail to them and from what I've heard, your brother's not stupid. He's been outrunning Voldemort since he was a year old."

"How do you-"

He gave me a half smile. "Martha talks." I didn't respond. "Look. I don't know all that much about what's going on on the other side of the big pond, but as soon as I heard the name Malfoy I had alarm bells ringing. They're notorious for causing more than just trouble."

"What do you know about them?"

"Look at me." He said it so matter-of-factly it took me a few seconds to fully realise what he meant and he gave me every extra second I needed it to let it sink in.

I hadn't seen Cassius since before I'd gone to Hogwarts a year ago and I'd known him for so long, I'd never given his looks a second thought. He was tall, his eyes were a kind, dark grey. His face was full, his nose straight - his hair white blond and his chin distinctly pointy.

I inhaled sharply but didn't get the chance to ask what was on my mind.

"We're very distant cousins." He said. "But please trust me when I tell you to stay away from that boy. If he's anything like his father, he's no good."

I frowned again. "And what do you know about his father?"

Cassius' face darkened. "Repeatedly marrying cousins doesn't have the best effect on your mind. I've had one interactions with him in my life - he's an elitist, choleric dick. He's the one carrying the Malfoy name and that makes him think that give's him the right to control and command around all of us."

"How many of you are there?" I cocked my head to the side in wonder. He'd peaked my curiosity.

"I'm aware of one other cousin, somewhere in the south of France." Cassius sighed. "And then there's us. We're descendants of Ophélie Malfoy, younger sister of Brutus Malfoy. She in herself was an oddity, Malfoy's don't tend to have more than one child. She disgraced the family by marrying a muggle and Brutus, true to his name, disinherited her, burnt her of the family tree as they say. So she did what most French people looking for a better life did back in that time and she moved here. But they like to keep close tabs on their relatives, just in case we go out of line."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm the first in generations to have more than one child." He continued. "With Ophélie, the Malfoy line turned into the Warbeck line and the name hasn't changed once all the way down to me. And then I come along and have three children. When my dear cousin got wind of the fact that I'd fathered a squib, he couldn't stand the idea of anyone ever finding out."

An uneasy feeling started spreading in my guts. I leaned back in my chair, biting my thumb. I had an idea where this might be going. I'd never asked Martha, I'd never bothered to even ask myself what might have happened, but the question now filled me with dread and I knew I'd get the answer sooner than I liked.

"He came around, all pompous and pretentious with his snobbish wife, turning up his nose every chance he got." Cassius paused. "There's a blood-curse on the Malfoy family. I didn't know that until he cared to enlighten me. It dates all the way back to Armand Malfoy, almost a thousand years back. He put a curse on his family tree to ensure a single, pure-blooded line of Malfoy's. It's my own fault for never wondering _why _it's been all Warbeck's since Ophélie.

Every Malfoy's first born will always be male, to ensure there is an heir to carry along the name. The second born will always be female, an indulgence supposedly, one you can marry off and knit closer diplomatic ties to other pure-blood families. The third, will be a squib, to _discourage further reproduction._ Malfoy's aren't frivolous. _We're not rabbits, we behave with dignity._" He said it with so much hatred I almost recoiled.

Alexandre, Sophia and Martha. The boy, the girl and the squib. The feeling of unease began to spread up my spine, making the hairs on the back of my neck stand on edge.

"What did he do?"

"Made sure I stopped reproducing."

I let go of the breath I didn't know I'd been holding. "Why didn't you report him?"

Cassius huffed. "It wouldn't have brought Catherine back." He said darkly. "Do you have any idea how much money these people have? He's paying me a handsome sum to keep my mouth shut. If I went to MACUSA, he'd be paying them a handsome sum to leave him alone. I'd rather that money went to my children."

The unease lodged itself firmly up my throat, making it hard to breathe steadily. "How old was Martha?"

But Cassius shook his head. "She doesn't know." He said, avoiding my eye. "She was asleep upstairs with her sister. Alex saw, but I changed his memory."

I didn't say anything for a while, letting the full weight of what he was telling me sink into my brain.

"He'll find you." Cassius carried on. "Sooner or later, if he's got it out for you, even Fox can't keep you safe. So do me a favour and stick to what your mother's telling you to do." I nodded. "I'm not having another person vanish because of him."

"Does Madam Fox know about this?" I asked.

"Of course she does!" Cassius looked me deep in the eye for a moment, before carrying on. "Martha's telling me you're getting twins next year?"

My eyebrows shot up, unsure about the sudden change of subject, but I nodded.

"Do you know their name?" He said.

"Poppy and Violet."

He shook his head. "Their last name."

"Avery, or something along the lines." I said. "I'm not sure."

"That's correct."

When I carried on looking at him confusedly he turned around and rummaged through a drawer in his kitchen cabinet. Finally, he pulled out an old edition of the Owl Times. He dropped it on the table in front of me and turned it to page 7, the international news. It was a week old, the mass break-out at Azkaban prison was front and centre. When I frowned down at the page, Cassius tapped his finger on the mug-shots of escaped prisoners heading the article. There were seventeen different faces, but the very first was a man with the name Corban Avery. I looked up at Cassius, confused.

"Fox has been taking in girls in need for years. She's known about your real origins since the day your mother showed up at her door. She's somewhat notorious for it, that's why I took Martha to her. Poppy and Violet are the daughters of this kind gentleman." He tapped Corban Avery's mugshot. "His wife Mirabella supposedly had no idea what he was up to, but the second he got caught chasing your brother down one of the most high security departments in the British Ministry, she's been setting up their enrolment at Salem with Madam Fox. To keep them away from their father and to make sure they grow up to be decent people."

I sat dumbfounded, struggling to take this all in. "And she can be trusted?"

"She passed Fox' questioning, I don't think you have anything to fear from her."

I swallowed hard at the thought, but considering the lengths Madam Fox had gone to to secure Salem for the coming year, I didn't think she'd let any Death Eater's wife into the school if she didn't have serious reason to trust her.

Regardless, I had very little time to digest this all. I felt something glowing hotly in the back pocket of my shorts. It confused me for a moment before I remembered the two coins still stowed away safely in it. It was barely 11.30pm, that made it 5.30 in the morning in Britain. I frowned and pulled the culprit out.

_Are you okay? _

It wasn't dented.

**Pleas do take this as the official first chapter - the last one was more of a prologue. **

**Also: cookie for you if you can tell me who Casper and/or Brandy are based on. **


	3. Chapter 3

Surviving Malfoy _ Part II : Anger and Depression

watch?v=dZ2ZCUDT6G0

Douglas Dare 'Caroline' - Your precious words, they disappeared.

Chapter 3:

I stared at the coin in my hand, turning it over and over, inspecting the edges and making sure I hadn't simply missed the dent. But no, it was an intact gold galleon, except for the letters now adorning it rather than the serial number.

The gentle thud of a closing drawer woke me out of my stupor. Cassius had put last week's Owl Times away and I used the couple of seconds he still had his back turned to me to quickly stuff the coin back into my back pocket.

"How are you getting home?" He sat back down opposite me. He hadn't seen the coin, or if he had he didn't seem to find it suspicious.

"I was going to apparate." I said, hesitating a moment. "Do you have an owl by any chance?"

He looked at me with curiosity for a moment before nodding as he got up, turning towards the living room. Going home would be a waste of time now. I wouldn't be able to sleep, I wouldn't know what to do, what to respond, if at all. Cassius returned a few minutes later, a great horned owl on his arm.

"What do you need it for?" He asked.

"I want to check if Debbie's awake." I said.

Cassius sighed. "I didn't mean for all that to keep you awake at night, kid." Nevertheless, he handed me a piece of parchment and a quill.

"It won't." I answered truthfully, quickly scribbling a few words down on the parchment and rolling it up. The owl took it dutifully in its beak and took off out of the open window. Cassius' furrowed brows were the first thing I saw when I looked back up. "I just need to talk things through with someone."

"Just make sure she doesn't tell Martha." His tone was grave.

I huffed, well aware of Debbie's abilities to keep secrets. "Maybe I just won't mention that part."

He smiled.

Debbie's answer came a mere fifteen minutes later with only five words written on it: _I'll come pick you up. _

"Let your mother know where you are." Cassius pointed his finger at me, but it wasn't necessary. I had no intention of letting her worry any longer. I quickly scribbled a few words on the back of the parchment, letting her know I'd be safely at Debbie's. I hoped she wouldn't have any opposition to this. I'd be safe in a house with magical law enforcement after all.

The crack of Debbie apparating sounded the moment the owl left Cassius' kitchen for the second time that night. She walked right into the house and through to us without a knock, but Cassius didn't seem to mind. He simply chuckled at her with a wave.

"Everything alright?" He asked her.

"Better now." She said with a furtive look at me. "Didn't I tell you to let me know right away if you're okay? I was worried sick, I thought you'd-" She interrupted herself.

I frowned at the sudden ambush but Cassius reassured her before I could even open my mouth. "That's on me." He said. "I distracted her, thought it might be better to get her mind off of things."

"Why?" Debbie flared up again. "Did something happen?"

I shook my head. "No. I just needed to not think about it for a change." I said, raising my empty glass a little for emphasis.

"But you're fine?"

"I'm fine." I said with a small smile. "Not a werewolf."

"Which means she's safe for you to take home." Cassius interjected.

"I told mom I'd be staying at yours."

Debbie's eyebrows instantly shot up in relief. "Oh yes, please do." She said, throwing her head back. "I haven't seen you in ages and these guys are doing my head in already."

I couldn't suppress a grin. I would be lying if I said the memory of a certain swede hadn't played into my decision of asking her to stay the night. And now the thought of him doing Debbie's head in rather than her being smitten with him soothed my little bubble of jealousy just the slightest.

I took Debbie's arm and she disapparated out of the swamps and onto Prytania Street. We landed in the shadows of a long driveway between two duplex houses. I followed her around the pastel blue one to our left and she opened the right door, leading me into their front room.

"That driveway's our safest apparition point." She said to me. "It's muggle protected, Austin made sure of that. You can't apparate into or out of the house, though."

I nodded in acknowledgement and looked around her living room. It had an open plan kitchen going towards the back, the furniture was miss-matched and there was an unusual amount of muggle technology around. There was a radio on the kitchen counter, a TV in the corner of the living room and even a phone on the wall.

"I have tea or firewhisky, those are literally your only two options." Debbie rushed straight through into the kitchen.

"I'll have the tea, thanks." I said. Cassius' glass of firewhisky still rumbled in my stomach.

"Camomile okay?" Debbie started rummaging through cupboards. "Cas is a huge tea drinker, but I'm not sure how much of it I'm allowed to take."

"Cas?"

"Casper? You've met him. You know -" She waved her hand parallel to the ground and way above her head and I huffed at her.

"I'll take camomile." I said, letting myself sink into an old leather sofa in front of the window. "How long has he been living here?"

"Cas moved in two weeks before me." She said as she put the kettle on. "Austin's been living here since he left Hawthorne and all through his training. He's just had different roommates every year."

"Where are they now?"

"Sleeping, I guess." She plopped down on the couch next to me, waiting for the water to boil. "Although I'm not sure about Austin. He's got a bit of a weird schedule." She frowned up at the ceiling.

I swallowed, pausing for a moment. "He hasn't heard anything new from…" I trailed off.

Debbie shook her head no. "I don't think so. I keep on asking him, but he says its pretty quiet for now. But he thinks that might not be a good sign, like the quiet before the storm."

"Anything the Owl Times isn't telling us?" I asked.

Debbie shook her head again. "No. They're more transparent than the British media, there's only the Quibbler over there that seems somewhat reliable. I got a subscription, hold on." She got back up off the sofa and made for the stairs.

"You can get it delivered here?"

She didn't respond, but stomped up the stairs instead, returning a minute or so later. She handed me a brightly coloured magazine, a huge caricature of Voldemort on the front cover.

"I'm getting them through the postal service. They have people with international apparition permits that can apparate your post from Britain to a local post office. Austin told me about it, I had no idea that was an option or I would've sent you more letters last year. Anyway, the Daily Prophet is rubbish, nothing but ministry propaganda, but this one's pretty accurate. I think the Owl Post might actually be using it as a source."

I flicked through the pages, it opened onto a 13 page spread about the Death Eaters who'd broken out of Azkaban the week before. "And it's reliable?" I raised my eyebrows.

"If you ignore the part about the Rotfang Conspiracy and Dabberblimps it's actually quite an interesting read."

"The what now?" I snorted until my eyes landed on a particular page. A mugshot of a silvery blond wizard in a straight jacket took up most of the top left corner. His name didn't need to be written next to it for me to know exactly who this was. I'd looked into eyes of the exact same shade of grey almost daily during my last month at Hogwarts. The resemblance between father and son was striking, only the small crow feet in the corners of his eyes and his scruff made it clear this wasn't Draco. "Can I keep this?"

"Sure. You can have all of them if you want."

I nodded. "Let me know if you notice anything weird in them." I closed the magazine up over Lucius Malfoy's dirty face and hesitated a moment before I pulled the gold galleon out of my back pocket. I handed it to Debbie silently.

She frowned and stared down at it without saying a word until, finally, she glanced up at me, a look of great concern on her face. "I take it this isn't Hermione?"

I shook my head no.

"Don't respond." Came her immediate answer.

I'd had a feeling that would be her advice. I sighed and shrugged. "I don't think I will."

"No. Don't." She handed the galleon back to me. "I told you before, I think it's better if you throw that galleon away."

I turned it over in my hand a few times before shaking my head again. "I can't." I said. "You never know, I might need it."

"In what circumstance would you need to get in touch with him?!" Debbie's voice flared up and I raised my hands in defence.

"I can't think of one, but I don't want to cut off any links that might bring me information in the future."

Debbie raised an eyebrow. "Do you want to talk him?" She asked.

I sighed. "No."

"Then throw it away." She said sternly before I could elaborate.

"_But,_" I continued. "That doesn't mean I won't want or need to in the future."

She pursed her lips. "Be careful. Especially with what you say."

"He already knows where I am." I said firmly. "He's _seen_ Salem, it wouldn't be that hard for him to find me if he wanted to, but he hasn't tried yet, has he? And if he'd told anyone where or who I was, they'd already be standing on Fox's doorstep. But don't worry, if I do end up ever responding I won't say anything that might put anyone in danger. For now, I just want the option to communicate if I ever need to."

"Jay, I really don't think this is-"

But she cut herself off. Both our heads turned towards the staircase, there were footsteps coming from above and sure enough, after a short moment a pair of bare feet sticking out of tartan pyjama bottoms tip-tapped down the steps. For a moment I had hope, but the man who appeared was a little shorter and fuller. He had long, messy brown hair and a matching beard with a twirled moustache. His eyes looked kind and strangely young in comparison to his facial hair style. He was wearing an open robe and no pyjama top, baring his chest and belly.

"Thought I heard your lovely voice." He said in an upbeat tone and Debbie looked like she could growl at him.

"Jay, Austin. Austin, Jay." She said without looking at either of us.

"We're not howling at the moon then?" The grin on his face went all the way up to his eyes. My jaw tightened of its own accord. "Sorry, bad joke." He said immediately.

"Why are you up?" Debbie demanded.

"I'm on early morning." Austin walked past our sofa and into the kitchen. "Gotta go in an hour!"

"Good." Debbie mumbled, and then a little louder. "We'll leave you be. It's been a long evening."

"Oh don't mind me." Austin turned around, leaning against the kitchen counter. "I didn't mean to interrupt."

"It's fine, it's late." Debbie brusquely got up and stalked up the stairs.

I hesitated a moment instead of following her. Austin still stood, arms crossed over his chest, looking at me with mild curiosity.

I sucked in a quick breath. I wanted to double-check. "You haven't heard anything…"

His face immediately broke into a kind smile, but he shook his head. "Officially, nothing new." He said, his voice neutral. And then he stood upright and took a small step towards me. "I haven't told Debbie this, but I've been in touch with an ex-auror in the UK. Mad-Eye Moody, ever heard of him?" I shook my head. "He's infamous, bit of a head case if you ask me. He works for the resistance there, they're planning on moving your brother to a safe house."

"The Order of the Phoenix?" I asked hopeful.

"That's the one." He nodded.

"Do you know when?"

"He wouldn't say, he's too scared of messages getting intercepted. With good reason to be honest, but they'll be doing it soon. Couple of weeks from now, probably."

"Okay." I said feebly. "Thanks."

"No problem." He said softly.

I followed Debbie up the stairs. I didn't know which one her room was, but there was only one with the lights on inside. It was small, just about big enough for a small double bed, a wardrobe and a desk. She'd laid out a t-shirt for me to sleep in and I slipped out of my clothes quietly, sliding under the covers next to her.

"Good thing he's working to be honest." Debbie said grimly. "He snores like a pig."

I chuckled a little, but didn't comment any further. I'd find out sooner or later what her issues were with Austin and Casper, but Austin at least didn't seem as bad as she found him. I fell asleep quickly, despite my thoughts chasing each other through my brain and I slept late into the next morning. I dreamt vividly, yet peacefully. No swamps, no alligators, no minty blondes and no werewolves.

Debbie wasn't lying next to me when I awoke the next morning. The drawn curtains kept her room in the dark, but the digital alarm clock on her nightstand shone a bright green 11.23 in my face. I groaned. I knew my mother might kill me if I wasn't home any time soon, but I interpreted the lack of angry owl as a sign she at least wasn't worried I was dead yet.

I rolled myself out of bed and tip-toed back down the stairs. A second later I was painfully aware I hadn't bothered to changed back into my clothes when I found a sleek, black haired head sitting on the sofa rather than Debbie's frizzy curls. He had his back turned to me, so I took my chances and turned back around, hoping he wouldn't notice.

"Morning." I stopped in my tracks. "If you can still call it that." His voice sounded reprimanding and he looked at the leather strapped watch on his arm for emphasis.

"Morning." I said flatly.

His head whipped around to me. "Oh, it's you." He said, a little more friendly. "How was your night?"

"Uneventful."

A smile flickered across his face and I kept a firm grip on the bottom hem of my shirt, pulling it down as far as I could, but he kept his eyes intently on my face.

"Good."

"Where's Debbie?"

"Probably in the shower." He turned around to the book he was reading.

I nodded but, again, didn't quite trust my voice to be steady enough to respond. I turned around and started walking back up the stairs.

"Do you want any breakfast?" His voice was neutral. If he'd noticed my unease, he didn't let it show.

"I'm fine, thanks." I walked up two more steps, but stopped in my tracks again. "Where's the bathroom?"

"Up the stairs, first door on your left."

I walked through that door without knocking. The shower was running behind the drawn curtain and I let the door fall shut, sitting down on the closed toilet lid. Debbie's head peaked out, eyes wide.

"Tituba, don't scare me like that!" Her head vanished again.

"Leave me a note next time." I hadn't intended to sound reprehensive.

"Why?" Her voice came back confused from behind the white shower curtain.

"Because I just walked downstairs in nothing but this t-shirt."

I had known she would laugh. I couldn't pretend I was surprised.

"I'm sorry." She said. "Did he say anything?"

"No." I said grumpily. "But he seemed pretty set on keeping his eyes way above my neck."

She chuckled again. "He's a gentleman."

I frowned. "You didn't seem too keen on him yesterday, though."

"Yeah." Her voice was short. "That's his problem, he's too much of a gentleman."

"What makes you say that?" I masked my thirst for knowledge as mild curiosity as best I could.

"I asked him out on a date."

My jaw and my stomach clenched simultaneously. "And?" I asked when she didn't elaborate.

"He declined ever so politely." She sounded grim. "He said he didn't like getting involved with people he lived with, something about _causing drama_."

"Huh." I hid the glee.

The water shut off and Debbie's hand appeared, grabbing her towel off the towel rack on the wall. She pulled the curtain back, staring at me with a look I knew didn't bear anything good for me.

"You like him?" The mischief obvious in her face.

"No?" I kept my hands clasped together in my lap, trying to sit as innocently as possible on her toilet lid but I knew there wasn't much of a point. She still knew me too well.

Her eyes narrowed. "Liar." She said simply. I didn't respond. "Do you want to take a shower?"

I finally looked away. "I'll take one at my mom's." I said with a sigh. "Did she get in touch this morning?"

Debbie nodded. "I told her you're still asleep though. She said that's fine, you probably needed it."

I huffed. "Sure did." I followed her back into her room where we both got dressed, but she didn't pick the Casper subject back up. She kept her back to me and I knew she was hiding that same smile that had appeared from behind the shower curtain. I chose to ignore it.

I was fully prepared to walk out of the front door without another word to either her or the man in question, but he for one, seemed to have a different idea.

"Going home?" He was still sitting on the couch, that same book on his lap he didn't look up from, and Debbie's eyebrows shot up immediately.

"Yes." I said apprehensively, standing stock still, exchanging a quizzical look with her.

"I could drive you if you'd like." His voice was matter-of-fact.

Debbie's eyes narrowed and her grin deepened. I closed my eyes, trying not roll them at her. His eyes still firmly on the pages of his book, he thankfully didn't notice our quick exchange.

"It's okay, you don't need to-" Debbie's elbow hit me sharply in the ribs and my jump caused him to finally look up.

"It's no trouble really." His eyebrows were slightly raised as he looked at me.

I stared back in return, hell-bent on ignoring Debbie's intensive flare. "Well, if you don't mind…" I kept on ignoring Debbie as she mouthed something at me.

"Absolutely not." He clapped his book shut and got up, walked over to a little shelf on the wall next to the front door and grabbed a set of keys. He proceeded to open the door and held it there, looking at me expectantly.

"See you around." I said curtly to Debbie, who couldn't help but wink.

I rolled my eyes with my back to the both of them, but I couldn't really ignore the soothing sense of childlike joy that had spread all the way down into my toes.

"The car's further down the road." He said, ushering me down the two front steps.

"You have plenty of parking in the driveway." I said sceptically.

"Yes, but that's a little risky. I wouldn't want Deborah accidentally apparating onto my windshield." His voice sounded so serious, I didn't dare laugh.

He set off down the pavement and I followed closely at his side. His height became more apparent to me than it had the first time we'd met. He was standing to my right and I realised the top of my head couldn't even reach his shoulder. He blocked most of my view on my right, and I suddenly realised what was bothering me so much. I quickly took a step around him and positioned myself on his right. He stopped walking for a moment and I turned my head to be able to see his face.

"Just-" I gesticulated around my face. "Be my left eye, would you?" I continued walking without waiting for a response. It hadn't bothered me before, but now I realised I'd only ever been outside in the world and not in a safe space with Debbie since I'd left Hogwarts and she always walked on my left out of habit. I felt better having a friend on my left and keeping an eye on my right by myself. Casper didn't comment until we sat in his old, red Toyota Land Cruiser.

"I don't mean to prey." He started.

"Yes?" I asked when he didn't continue right away.

"Is your left eye completely blind?"

"Oh, that." I said, releasing the tension in my shoulders. "Yes it is. There's nothing that can be done with werewolf venom apparently."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"Don't be." I said quietly. "It could've been way worse."

"But it wasn't. Thankfully." He added. "But that doesn't mean you don't have a right to complain."

I turned my head towards him, my brows furrowed, but he had a small smile on his face. "I'm not complaining." I said.

"I know." He responded, eyes on the road. "Let me know if you ever want to, or if there's anything I can do to help."

I paused for a moment before answering with a small smirk. "Just carry on being my left eye."

It was a relatively short drive to my mother's house. Casper had never been there and my mother hadn't given him its whereabouts, so the best he could do was follow my instructions and watch me disappear between two houses, making sure I was safely hidden under the fidelius charm.

My mother ambushed me the second I walked through the front door, her hands raised as if to grab me.

"Are you alright?" Was her first question.

"I'm okay." I said, half a smile still etched on my face.

"How did you get home?" Was her second.

"Casper drove me."

Her face broke out into a smile, but I had the slightest impression she was hiding second thoughts behind it. "Well, isn't he a gentleman."

"I need a shower." I said, diverting the subject. "I'm all sticky."

"Up you go. I got a couple things together to show you, but no rush."

I frowned at her for a moment, confused as to what she could mean before it dawned on me again. I nodded. "I'll be down in five." I said, running up the stairs into my room. I dropped my wand onto my desk along with last week's edition of the Quibbler Debbie had given me and pulled the two gold coins out of the back pocket of my shorts. I grabbed the one with the dented edge and waved my wand over it.

_All okay, no werewolf. _

My words replaced the short message from Hermione I'd missed early in the morning and I dropped it next to the second coin. I turned the latter over, showing the emblem of Gringotts Bank up to the ceiling rather than the the message I'd decided to ignore.

**Rather short and sweet and maybe a little later than normal. The temperatures here dropped by almost 20 degrees Celsius over night and my body didn't much appreciate that - apologies. I'll try and get rid of that flu until next week, pinky promise. **


	4. Chapter 4

Surviving Malfoy _ Part II : Anger and Depression

watch?v=hbe3CQamF8k

Massive Attack 'Angel' - She's on the dark side.

Chapter 4:

_Dear Aurora, _

_My name is Lily Potter. I am not sure how much you know, but I am your brother James' wife. We married in June two years ago and I am truly sorry you were unable to attend. James told me you rejected our invitation. He didn't elaborate much why, but I believe I might understand where you are coming from, as my own sister declined her invitation for what I think might have been similar reasons. _

_From what James has told me, you value your privacy and want nothing to do with the wizarding world. I completely understand your standpoint, but I hope it will be alright for me to get in touch with you. Your distance to our world is the reason why I am reaching out to you. I am in need of help and I believe you are my best chance. _

_As you may know, there is an ongoing war in our world. James and I have been involved since we've left Hogwarts. We've been fighting closely with Albus Dumbledore and we haven't always been as careful as I now wish we would have been. James and I had twins a year ago and I'm afraid the world looks a lot scarier when your own children are expected to grow up in it. _

_Dumbledore has recently told us that our son is being targeted. He gave us very little detail, but we do trust him and are doing our very best to keep him out of harms way but I still fear we may not be successful in the end. In case we are not, I want to make sure at least one of my children will survive this war unharmed. _

_James does not know I am writing to you and I am truly terribly sorry to spring this on you without warning and without coming to speak to you in person. But I do think it would be safer to proceed this way and I hope you will find it in your heart to take our daughter in. _

_If we do not make it out of this war alive, please raise her as your own and do not burden her with this until she is old enough. Once she is, please let her know that James and I love her more than anything in this world and that my only motivation in giving her away, is to keep her safe._

_Lily_

The piece of parchment Lily's letter had been written on was blank on the other side. It had been folded neatly in four, the marks of it now ingrained deeply into the paper since it hadn't been unfolded in over a decade and a half. It was dated August 2nd 1981, two days after my first birthday, and the envelope it had come in was yellowed with age, addressed simply to Aurora Potter. No street name, house number or town. I picked it up and shook it out, letting the picture I had known was inside fall onto my mother's kitchen table.

It had been torn in half with the right side missing. The left, showed a small living room with a squishy looking couch and pictures on a wall. A cat was lounging on one of the couch's arms, stretched out with its tail twitching in comfort. A beautiful young woman sat next to it, a toddler with matching flaming red hair on her lap. The both of them were giggling as a second, black haired toddler on a toy broomstick was being chased across the room by a young man in glasses.

I recognised them from the pictures Harry had shown me months ago. They looked happy, as happy as they had in every picture of them I had seen so far, except this was a picture I was in. This made it real. Unless someone had cleverly manipulated this picture, forged a letter in Lily's name and through some miracle produced a child that resembled the people in question - Lily and James Potter had had a second baby. A daughter that Lily Potter had given away into hiding when she became unable to keep her from harm.

I breathed in deeply as I let the idea settle.

"You know, until now I'd always had the hope Dumbledore made a mistake and I got pulled into all this by accident."

My mother was sitting opposite me, her hands folded casually on the table in front of her and her face neutral. A sad smile spread across her face but she didn't respond.

"Aurora?" I asked.

"I changed my name." She responded. "I thought it would be safer."

I nodded and silence spread over us once more.

"You look like him." I played with the torn edge of the photograph, waiting for the moment James Potter would come running into and back out of the picture over and over again.

"So I've been told."

"How come he didn't ask any questions?" I carried on when my mother gave me a questioning look. "James. She says here she didn't tell him she was writing to you. Did he know she brought me to you?"

My mother shook her head. "I was told Lily obliviated him after she took you away. Not many people knew you existed apparently, Lily and James were very private people, they never brought you along to any meetings or anything of the sort. She obliviated those who knew about you for sure, including her own husband, and then took you away."

"Dumbledore still knew."

"Well, he had his ideas." My mother frowned. "He was a very powerful wizard, changing his memory can't have been a very easy thing to do. I do think she tried though, if she hadn't I'm sure he would have come to find you earlier."

I glanced down at Lily's letter. "Did Dumbledore know about you?"

"Oh, he did. I met him once before I left my parents'. They were involved in the Order of the Phoenix as well, as were James and Lily, and were quite close with Dumbledore. He never paid me much attention, but he definitely knew I existed."

"Then why did he send Harry to Lily's sister rather than to you? You know about the wizarding world, you don't hate it as much as they do. He would've been so much better off."

"That's a question I don't know the answer to. I expected him to, after your parents died, but he never came. Regardless, I didn't always think that way, so I'm surprised even your mother decided to send you to me."

I raised my eyebrows at her.

"You know what they think of Squibs in Britain, don't you?"

I nodded with a sigh.

"I used to despise wizards. They always treated muggles like little children who don't understand a thing about the world and - considering - I would've been perfectly happy if they'd treated me that way too. But no, I was sub-human in their eyes. I wasn't worthy of knowing what they were capable of, least of all of being related to them. When I turned eleven and still hadn't received my Hogwarts letter or shown any magical ability, my parents stopped showing me any affection. They were good people, I knew they were capable of loving me, they always had up until that point, but no matter what I did, how good I was, how much I tried to be the perfect daughter, they only treated me with indifference.

They were quite old already by then, but they tried for another child regardless even though they'd always insisted they were perfectly happy with one and didn't want any more children. I was thirteen when James was born and I hated him from the second I laid eyes on him. I was jealous, I knew, somehow, that he was going to be the perfect son and Euphemia especially treated him as such and stopped acknowledging me completely."

"Euphemia?" I raised an eyebrow.

She gulped. "My mother. Fleamont and Euphemia Potter were our parents' names, they passed away just after James left Hogwarts. I left their house when I was sixteen, finished my A-Levels in a far-away boarding school they were still gracious enough to send me to and then I moved to London on my own and tried to make a living as a muggle, ignoring any signs of wizardry around me. I wanted nothing more to do with wizards until you were brought into my life.

I used to be a secretary in an investment bank. I used to have a stable nine to five job, a small one-bedroom flat in Brixton, lovely friends and a boyfriend I was convinced was going to ask me to marry him any day now. And then you came into my life."

My eyes shot up.

"That was still the best thing that ever happened to me."

"Why didn't you go to James after you read this?"

"Because James and Lily were dead by the time you were brought to me."

I frowned, averting my gaze back to the photo I kept on playing with. "If Lily never came to see you," I started slowly. "Who brought me to you?"

"A friend of hers." My mother said. "I can't, by the life of me, remember her name. Cathy, or Cassie - something along those lines."

"And she just dropped me off and left?"

She shook her head no. "I asked her why she only came to me three months after Lily wrote this letter and she told me she'd been waiting for the right moment, hoping maybe she could keep you safe until the war was over. But she realised it was too dangerous and decided to finally drop you off."

"That's a little presumptuous." My eyes narrowed.

My mother nodded. "She struck me as quite the pretentious person to be honest. Very posh, very pompous."

"What did she look like?"

"Tall, black haired with blue eyes. She was wearing muggle clothes to blend in and it was obvious she was feeling uncomfortable. She was trying to be courteous, but I could tell she was prejudiced. I know why she didn't want to bring you to me. She brought you in the middle of the night on Halloween, it must have been just a couple of hours after your parents died."

"Did she know?" I asked.

"That your parents were dead? If she did, she didn't tell me. They hadn't been found yet from what I heard later, so it's unlikely."

"And you have no idea where I could find her?"

My mother shook her head. "I never heard from her again after that. She put quite some work into hiding you too though. She forged documents for you, magically, so I wouldn't have to do it illegally in the muggle world."

"So she's the one who chose my name?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

She nodded. "And she's the one who told me about Salem. She told me about Madam Fox and how she'd take us in, no questions asked, especially if I told her about the danger your brother was in. So I quit my job, changed my name, packed my bags and flew to New Orleans."

"And your boyfriend?"

"Married for ten years with three kids." She said with a smile. "Don't worry about that, I haven't looked back since."

I carefully folded Lily's letter back up and laid the photograph on top of it. "Do you know what my real name is?" I asked quietly.

My mother blinked a few times before answering. "No." She said. "Lily made sure to mention as few names in her letter as she could. She wanted me to know as little as possible and made sure there wasn't much that could link you to them. I should have burnt this letter after reading it really, but I knew you would want to see it some day."

I'm glad you didn't burn it." I said and after a short silence "I wonder where that woman is now."

My mother shrugged. "I don't know. She didn't say much about herself."

"Did she say she had any children?"

"No, she didn't say anything at all more than her name." My mother responded. "And I'm really sorry I can't remember it."

I sighed. Who knew, maybe Lily's friend did have children, maybe they were my age, maybe they'd been at Hogwarts with me this past year. But unless I found out who she was, there was no way of knowing.

My mother stayed silent. I knew her eyes were on me without needing to look up, she was giving me time to process.

"Do you know anything more about my parents?" I asked.

My mother leaned back in her chair and directed her gaze at the kitchen window before answering. "Not all that much. The last time I saw James, he'd just turned three. I didn't bother going to my parents' funeral or his wedding. He sent me invitations to both and even sent me a few letters once he started studying at Hogwarts, but I never responded."

"Why not?"

"I was jealous." She took a deep breath. "I never hated him, even though I did want to sometimes. The way our parents treated me wasn't his fault. He was trying to get in touch with me and I rejected him every time he tried."

"Do you still have the letters?"

She shook her head. "I threw them all away, I didn't even bother reading some of them. If I'd known what would happen, I would've kept and answered every single one of them."

"Do you remember what they said?"

My mother took another deep, reminiscing breath. "He was telling me about Hogwarts, how he was doing in school, his friends. He even told me about Lily in one of the later ones, I knew who she was when I saw her name on that letter. He never told me anything about the Order of the Phoenix though. I guess it would've been too dangerous."

"He was pretty popular in school, from what Harry told me." I said, following her gaze. "But a bit of a bully sometimes, Lily was the one who calmed him down."

"She sounds like she was a kind young woman." She smiled.

"So far I haven't heard a single bad thing about her." I said.

"I'm really sorry I have so little to show you." My mother turned her eyes back to me.

I shook my head at her. "It answers some questions. Do you think you'd recognise the woman who brought me to you?"

"Maybe." She said.

"Harry told me a lot about James' friends, but never anything about Lily's."

"Maybe James' old friends remember her?"

I shrugged. "One is dead and one was a spy for Voldemort. I'd need to ask Harry again about Lupin, he said he still sees him sometimes."

"A spy for Voldemort?" She frowned.

"He's the one who ratted them out in the end. He got James and Lily to trust him enough to make him Secret Keeper and then he ran straight to Voldemort with their address."

"Is he still alive?"

I nodded. "He helped Voldemort come back a few years ago, he's his second in command in a way."

My mother's lips pursed. "And this Lupin character?"

"As loyal as they come." I said. "Dumbledore's helped him out of a few tight spots over the years, he's been playing an active role in the Order since the first war."

"Do you know if the Order is still running after Dumbledore's death?" My mother asked, her brows furrowed.

"I think so." I said. "Austin is in touch with them. He told me last night that they're planning on moving Harry to a safe house some time this month."

My mother tilted her head to the side. "Why is Austin in touch with them and not the British Aurors?"

I frowned at that. She did have a point. Austin was part of the MACUSAs law enforcement agency and the Order was a secret organisation, rebelling against a Dark Wizard thousands of miles away. And working independently fro the British Ministry.

"I'll have to ask Madam Fox, she knows more about him than I do." My mother said when I didn't respond.

"Maybe she put them in touch?" I said. "Sounds like something she would do."

My mother shrugged. "Did he mention anything else?"

I shook my head no. "He says it's calm at the moment, but they're preparing for something big to happen eventually."

"So we should be on the look out?"

"Mom, I don't think I'm in any danger as long as Voldemort doesn't have control of the ministry. He won't be able to send anyone to a different continent without a travel permission and we both know the MACUSA are keeping a close eye on British Wizards at the moment."

She lifted her eyebrows in agreement, she herself had been questioned by MACUSA agents when we'd travelled back from Britain.

"I know that." She said. "But that situation could change at any moment."

"There's an entire ocean between us. If it does, we'll have time to prepare."

"We don't know how quickly those news will get to us."

"Hermione would let me know right away."

My mother sighed. "Have you heard anything new from her lately?"

"No, still the same."

She pursed her lips again, just for a moment, before she asked "And from the Malfoy boy?"

I hesitated, weighing my options, but finally I cleared my throat. "He asked me if everything was okay yesterday evening."

"Jay-" She rose up in her chair in alarm.

"I didn't respond." I said. "And I won't unless I need to."

Her jaw tightened, but she didn't reply.

I spent a great deal of that afternoon laying on my bed, rereading Lily's letter and turning the torn picture over in my hand. Watching as James chased Harry on his little toy broomstick, and Lily as she bounced me on her lap.

The idea of this small, giggling child being me felt surreal. Sure, I'd spent the past year in Britain, seeing Harry Potter every day, being told I was there because he was my brother. But nothing brought the idea home quite as much as this small piece of a photograph.

My mother wasn't my mother, she was my aunt. She hadn't moved here purely to find a better life, she had fled. I wasn't an only child with a runaway father, I had a well-known brother and two dead parents.

I ended up propping the picture up against the lamp on my bedside table, silently wondering what happened to its other half. It was mine and mine alone. Harry had his entire book filled with happy pictures of his childhood and our parents. I'd flicked through it a hundred times, never truly appreciating it, and even now this half torn picture seemed infinitely more valuable to me.

I quickly grabbed the dented galleon off my desk and waved my wand over it.

_Have you heard from Harry? _

It was almost midnight in the UK so I set it back down, picking up Debbie's edition of the Quibbler instead, flicking it to page seventeen, from which Lucius Malfoy's gaunt looking eyes looked up at me. He sneered.

It wasn't a particularly long article, it just about filled the page, and didn't have all that much information. There were no details of his escape, only a brief history of his prior involvement with Voldemort and the story of his incarceration, followed by the rumours Debbie had warned me about. I merely skimmed it until I reached the last paragraph and my heart skipped a beat.

_Following Lucius' failings to serve his Lord accordingly, his punishment could not have been graver, as it is assumed He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named prompted a well-known werewolf, Fenrir Greyback, to inflict a bite on his only son. As we all know, Draco Malfoy was involved in the assassination of Albus Dumbledore in an effort to redeem his family name. Both father and son are currently on the run, however we can only hope the ministry conduct another raid at their family estate in Wiltshire, as they most likely reunited within its walls. _

That was one hell of an assumption to make. Listening to Debbie, it was likely one that would be laughed off and ignored, considering it was mentioned on the same page as the theory of Malfoy Manor being infected with Umgubular Slashkilters, causing all its inhabitants to develop murderous tendencies. Nevertheless, it was an assumption I knew to be true and could only hope Draco wasn't reading.

I folded down the corner of the page in question and flipped through until I fell on another now familiar name a few pages later, Avery. The long face of a squat, fair-haired wizard looked up out of it. His arms were restrained in a straight-jacket, just as Lucius' were on his mugshot. But unlike Lucius, Corban Avery was twisting and turning in an effort to free himself, his face contorted in rage.

His article was much shorter than Malfoy's. He wasn't as high ranking of a Death Eater, but was arrested following the battle at the British Ministry, along with Lucius, and was rumoured to be particularly affected by the Umgubular Slashkilters. The Quibbler's editor supposed he was hiding out at Malfoy Manor, along with several other escaped Death Eaters, plotting a coup to overthrow the ministry. A plot that was supposedly going well as they had already managed to infiltrate several high-ranking posts in the ministers entourage.

Disregarding the Umgubular Slashkilter theory, none of this seemed very far fetched and yet none of it had been reported in the Owl Times. Not that they had much of an interest in British News, but the fact that a particularly powerful Dark Wizards posse had made their way into their government, surely should have been worth mentioning at leat in passing. Regardless, whoever the editor of The Quibbler was, if the ministry did end up being overthrown - he was getting himself into trouble.

Hermione's coin glowed faintly for a second and I quickly picked it up.

_He's still at his aunt and uncle's. _

I sent my reply back quickly: _Is he moving soon?_

_Can't tell. _Her answer came within seconds.

_And you?_

_At Ron's since yesterday. _

I hesitated before asking my next question.

_Everything okay?_

_I'm safe. That's all that matters. _

**Quick PSA: I am returning to Uni starting early October and I'll be starting quite a demanding course, so there may be some hiccups in my uploads. If I can predict it at all, I'll make sure to add a quick note in the previous chapter, so I don't leave you all hanging. I'll obviously still do my best to upload regularly, but I hope you can forgive me if there are a few breaks in my schedule. **

**Also - Review?**

UPDATE: Can't.. Can't do it. I'm terribly sorry, but I'll need a couple days do sort my sh*t out and rethink/rewrite some of these next few chapters before I regret them as much as Chapter 1 of this part. I won't give you an exact date now, just because I truly do not know if I'll be able to stick to it AND pick up a regular upload schedule again after that... Please bear with me.


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